B is for BRUSH

I have three brushes. The first and smallest, I use every day, at least twice. It is green at present but used to be purple and sits all alone in a little glass beaker beside our bathroom sink for most of the day. I waken it most mornings about seven thirty, give it a quick wash, add some nice pepperminty paste to its bristles, then subject it to a most horrendous ordeal, inside my mouth. I drag it up and down against the hardest substance in my body, pull it from side to side across a range of jagged shapes, sprinkle it with blood, tea and the remains of breakfast that didn't make it all the way down the gullet, shower it in freezing water again, plunge it back inside the cavity, give it a final rinse and toss it back in its glass prison. But it never complains.

The second brush is larger and technically may not be mine but I use it every day, though sometimes you wouldn't know. I'm not sure where it came from but it's one of a collection in the bedroom. It may have originally belonged to wife but the longer I have used it, the less frequently she wants to claim ownership. Anyway, it keeps my hair in some sort of order at least long enough until I get out the front door and then it's generally a lottery from that moment on. I have also given it a hard time over the years, originally making it deal with hot air blowing at my head, then leaving it sticky all day with the remains of gel and now it shivers for the morning after wading through the cold water I throw haphazardly at my crown in the early hours, expecting the brush to do its magic. Lately I have noticed that when I'm finished, the brush seems to have more of my hair than my own head! And it never complains.

The last brush is much larger than both of the others. I am less reluctant to use this brush and indeed will go to considerable lengths to avoid it. However, wife is less reticent and regularly lifts it to sweep away the leaves and grass trimmings that congregate like some gang up to no good, on the tarmac and paving stones. I should help her but I guess it keeps her in training for the sweeping inside the house and I wouldn't want her to forget how to do that! A few years ago I bought a machine that blows away the leaves and grass, not exactly into thin air, but more back on to the lawn and towards the hedges. It is only as successful as the length of electric lead allows it to be and though I extol its virtues to hers truly and am occasionally allowed to use it, she does have a point that it is only a temporary measure and in the event of a large wind in the opposite direction, all my good work will be undone. So usually I let her brush, which she does aggressively. I hope she's not thinking about me when she brushes for on a several occasions, such has been the force she has used that the brush has become a pole, with the head lying motionless by its side. Yet it never complains.

There are other brushes about the house for which I don't intend to claim ownership but have used from time to time. These include scrubbing brushes, clothes brushes, indoor sweeping brushes and paint brushes, the latter of which both our boys seem to have developed an allergy towards, but they are all minor compared to the other three. But the thing that strikes me about them all is how specific they are in the jobs they do. I mean, I can't imagine trying to clean my teeth with a hairbrush while the yardbrush is generally too big for most mouths and I can't imagine my wife starting to sweep all the leaves up with my toothbrush though, I must confess, I have once combed my hair with it when I was left with no other remedy - and it looked like it too. Yea, I reckon if we began to swap all their intended jobs about, the complaining wouldn't be long until it started.

So tell me then, why do some folks think that God has given them every gift in the book while others complain if they are not used where they are not suited. God has given each of us talents to use for Him. While He doesn't want us to bury them, like in the parable, and show no return, he does expect us to use what He has given us and not to look at what He has given someone else with resentment. In the parable, the master gave varying amounts of talents to the three workers and in life God bestows us with different gifts that are best suited for the job He wants us to do. To try and do another job may occasionally work to some degree, but not as well as when in the hands of someone with that gift and often it doesn't work at all. At the very least it slows up His progress and might mean someone else cleaning the mess after we're finished.

Paul tells us 'We have different gifts, according to the grace given us.' So let's use the talents and gifts that God has given us for His glory, safe in the knowledge that 'there are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord.' Let's brush up on our gifts and talents.